


Soccer Dads

by phantropolis



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe – Future, Cuddling, Established Relationship, Family, Flirting, Fluff, Football, Jealous!Dan, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Parents, Reality, Soccer, This is so different to anything I've even thought about writing before, but i think i like it?, parent!phan, sport
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:50:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantropolis/pseuds/phantropolis
Summary: Dan accompanies Phil to their son’s soccer practice for the first time, only to discover that the soccer mums flirt with a very oblivious Phil in very obvious ways. Featuring jealous!Dan and their son, Jack, who is a surprisingly talented player.





	Soccer Dads

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this prompt](http://phanfic.tumblr.com/post/148733660312)
> 
> I’ve been busy with school so all the fics I’m super pumped to write have been put on hold until November (but stay tuned bc they’re coming yay). I needed an activity to take my mind off exam revision though, so this was something quick, fun, and dialogue-heavy in the meantime! Hope you enjoy :)
> 
> A big thank you to my lovely beta reader, Madi (@adorablydan) on Instagram!

Dan looks up from his laptop when he hears a frustrated groan.

“What?” He asks as Phil scurries around the lounge, throwing objects haphazardly into a picnic basket.

“I think I’ve taken on a bit too much responsibility at the soccer club,” Phil admits. He rests the basket against his hip, struggling under its weight. “I’m meant to volunteer today but I’m supposed to watch Jack, too.”

Dan deliberates. When Jack had first mentioned that he’d like to try football, it was Phil who startled them by leaping up from the dining table and insisting that they register online _right now because our son wants to play a sport, Dan!_ It was Phil who had suddenly shown interest in sport despite never having done so before, and it was Phil who had immersed himself completely into the world of football. It’s only been two weeks and Dan is less than thrilled. Sport wasn’t, isn’t, and will never be his thing – he’s adamant. But Phil and Jack _are_ his. He closes the lid of his laptop.

“I could always come and watch Jack for you,” he suggests.

“You want to come?” Phil asks dubiously, perching on the edge of the couch. The precariously-full picnic basket lies abandoned on the floor.

“Why not?” Dan replies. The idea is evolving in his mind and it seems more reasonable and appealing by the second. “It’s another opportunity for me to live through the successes of our child.”

“You really are a horrible man,” Phil says. His face is straight but his voice holds a joking lilt.

“You don’t even know the first thing about football.”

“I’ve played FIFA before,” Dan quips, holding his fingers out as though he’s checking items off a list. “And we watched, like, two episodes of Inazuma Eleven a few years ago, remember?”

“Video games and anime don’t count, Dan.”

“So what, you suddenly have more football qualifications than me?” Dan says with a smirk. “Bit rich, coming from the guy who didn’t know what a _goalie_ was until a few weeks ago.”

Phil throws his hands in the air in mock defeat and slumps backwards into Dan’s chest. Dan slings an arm around his shoulder and tugs him closer.

“I’d be very grateful if you came, Dan,” Phil whispers, his voice muffled by Dan’s arm. “Just don’t be how you usually are.”

Dan nudges Phil off him and shoots him a contemptuous glare that would make lesser men cower. Phil’s not just any man, though. He’s been on the receiving end of it too many times to count and it no longer has an effect on him.

“How I usually am?”

“You know…” Phil says, making an incomprehensible hand motion. He’s choosing his words carefully. “You get very… into things.”

“What, you don’t want me to be happy and proud of our son?”

“No, no, I like that about you,” he says firmly, nestling back into Dan’s chest, the space where he’s felt most comfortable for years now. “I like that you’re so enthusiastic and passionate. Just please don’t be too loud.”

“Pa?” A small voice pipes up from behind them, and both men turn at the intrusion. In the doorway is Jack, clad head-to-toe in his oversized blue kit and laden with a ball and heavy bag. Though he shares none of his fathers’ genes, he appears related to them in all but height. He stands shorter than everyone else in his grade, but his personality is more than enough to compensate for it. Dan’s joked about putting him on a stretching rack to make him grow taller. Phil’s told Dan to shut up.

“I’m ready to go,” Jack smiles.

“Dad’s coming with us today, too,” Phil says. “He’s going to watch you while I do some official business stuff.”

“Dad!” Jack squeals, bounding over to Dan and enveloping him in a tight hug. “I’m even better at real football than I am at FIFA!”

“I bet you are, Jackie,” Dan laughs as Jack tugs him off the couch. “I’ve heard great things about your soccer skills.” He allows himself to be pulled out of the room in the direction of the garage.

“Thanks for your help with the basket, Dan,” Phil calls after them.

“Oi, I’m coming to help you today, you don’t get it all,” Dan shouts back. 

 

* * *

 

 

When they arrive, Phil jogs straight over to the stands to check in for his duty while Dan and Jack head to the changing rooms together. A flock of children charge towards them the second they step through the door, and Dan, who can recall with great clarity the mobs he endured while at the height of his popularity, is suddenly caught off-guard and breathless. It’s only when the kids begin chanting “Jack! Jack!” over and over again that he realises the hysteria is not for him. He’s thankful for that. He watches as Jack, loving the attention, is absorbed by the small crowd and can no longer be seen over the heads of his larger friends.

Dan sidles to the edge of the room where a few other parents are standing and flashes them a quick grin in greeting. One man returns the smile through his shaggy red beard and holds it for long enough to make Dan uncomfortable. He pushes himself off the wall and ambles over. He’s much shorter than Dan, but what he lacks in height he makes up for in width.

“Always a pleasure to see a new face here,” the man beams, extending a short, grubby hand. “I’m the coach. You must be Phil’s husband.”

Dan grasps the coach’s hand and shakes it firmly. He resists the temptation to wipe his own immediately after the handshake ends, instead sliding it covertly into his pocket.

“Yep, I’m Dan,” he confirms. “Phil’s husband.” It’s been over a decade, but he still loves the way it sounds. _Husband husband husband._

“Brilliant kid you’ve got there,” the coach says gruffly. “Well-mannered. Friendly. Bloody talented player, too.”

“Thank you very much,” Dan says sincerely. He knows that he and Phil had raised Jack to the best of their abilities – as any parent would – teaching him all they know and more, but to be complimented on it makes his heart swell with pride.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to Phil about this, actually, but you can pass it onto him if you’d like.” The coach reaches into his pocket and pulls out a glossy flyer. “I know Jack’s only young and you don’t want to push kids too much or they’ll burn out, but he has a lot of potential. He could be competing nationally in a few years if you do all the right things.”

The coach passes Dan the flyer, and upon closer inspection he sees that it’s an advertisement for an elite junior training camp in Scotland.

“Really?” Dan gasps, taken aback. “I had no idea he had any sporting talent. Phil and I have none, so we always just assumed he wouldn’t either.”

“Kids can surprise you,” the coach winks. “I’m glad you gave Jack the opportunity to try it out. He’ll thank you for it when he’s older.” He turns away from Dan, directing his next words to the boisterous crowd in the centre of the room.

“Alright boys, out onto the field. I want you warmed up in fifteen, then we’ll do a few drills.”

Dan files out behind the steady stream of children and makes his way over to the stands. Phil’s there, alone, his figure so recognisable that it’s as though he’s an extension of Dan himself. He’s hunched over a clipboard, his glasses askew and hair falling into his face.

“How's it going?” Dan asks, and Phil hums distractedly in response.

“Busy?” He tries again.

“Very,” Phil mutters. “I’ve almost finished this first sheet, though.” He offers Dan an apologetic smile and drifts back to his work.

Dan casts his gaze to the fence at the edge of the field, where a group of parents are chatting with wide smiles and steaming mugs of coffee. He can’t help but notice that most of the wives are holding their husband’s hands. They look happy. Dan slides his own hand across the cool metal of the bench, closer to Phil’s. Phil bats it away.

“What are you doing?” He hisses.

“Holding your hand.”

“Not right now, please,” Phil says without looking up from the paper. “I’m trying to organise this player roster.”

Dan deflates. “Right, sorry,” he says. “I’ll go wait by the boundary.”

Though he craves Phil’s affection, Dan knows he’s being completely irrational as he stands and sulks over at the side of the field. Sure, they’re in love, and the little family they’ve created together is unparalleled – but do other people know that? Perhaps it was years of being in the limelight that made him so attuned to the perceptions of others. Perhaps it’s strange that he can no longer go anywhere without worrying if he’ll stick out like a sore thumb.

The kids are out on the field now, weaving through fluorescent cones and attempting to kick their balls into the net. Jack darts through them like a wolf, his oversized shirt billowing behind him. He scores effortlessly.

“Go Jack!” Dan calls, clapping wildly. Jack turns at the noise and grins, giving his Dad a thumbs-up before running back over to his friends for a round of high fives. When Dan squints to see if Phil caught the action, he spots not only his husband, but five women surrounding him like vultures to prey. They could be clones of one another – all clothed in the same denim pants and the same, scoop neck shirt. His stomach lurches when he sees that one of them is gripping Phil’s bicep. To his credit, Phil appears largely disinterested, but that doesn’t seem to deter the women. Dan sighs and hikes up the stairs.

The mums have created an impenetrable fortress with their bodies, wrapped around Phil so tightly that Dan can’t get through. The gaps between the seats in the stands are small, and he doesn’t want to cause a nuisance by attempting to push into their circle. He waits next to them instead, painstakingly listening as they continue with their conversation, oblivious to his presence.

“You are _such_ a good dad for coming here when you should be relaxing after work,” one of the women purrs.

“Oh, thank you,” Phil responds politely. “My job’s quite early in the morning, though, so I’ve loads of time to relax after it.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a breakfast radio host.”

One of them, whose wiry brown hair is scraped into a tight bun, gasps. “You’d be perfect for that! You have such a good voice for it; so lovely and deep.”

The women cackle like witches. Dan fears for Phil’s life, but Phil – bless the guy – is grinning and bearing it, so well that Dan doubts he even knows what’s actually going on. He’s only half-listening to the compliments spewed at him by the mums, still dutifully scrawling notes on his clipboard.

“Hey,” the one holding Phil’s arm begins sultrily, “would you like to bring Jack over to my house for a play date tonight? I’m sure my little Anthony would love it, and I definitely wouldn’t mind getting to see more of you.” She winks.

Dan’s had enough. He coughs loudly and pushes into the circle, almost knocking one of the mums over in the process. He can’t find it within himself to care. Everyone turns to him with dazed expressions, except a beaming Phil, who grabs him by the shoulders and steers him in front of the group. He intertwines their fingers. Dan’s heart flutters.

“I should have introduced you all before, sorry,” Phil says, “but this is my husband, Dan.”

The reactions of the mums are as exaggerated as they are varied: some immediately retract their fond hold on Phil’s limbs, while others inspect Dan as though he’s a piece of garbage they’d very much like to step on.

“We didn’t know you were married,” one of the women stammers.

“Thirteen years,” Dan says smugly, beaming with pride.

“That’s wonderful!” They chorus, tripping over themselves in a bid to congratulate the men. They don’t linger much longer after that, muttering excuses about going to watch their children play by the boundary line. Dan doesn’t care. He snuggles next to Phil, content to watch the field while he finishes his paperwork.

 

* * *

 

 

“Didn’t you notice them flirting with you?” Dan asks.

Jack finished training not long after the women left. He packed up his equipment with the help of Dan and Phil, and now the trio walks back to the car, hand in hand.

“Flirting?” Phil asks, bewildered.

“Of course you didn’t,” Dan groans resignedly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’re completely oblivious! You didn’t even notice I was flirting with you when we first met until I literally grabbed your face and kissed you.”

“I can explain,” Phil smirks.

“Go on, then.”

“I don’t notice others because I only have eyes for you, my love.”

“If you’re gonna turn into some poetic idiot, I will leave right now.” Dan pushes Phil away, laughing, and Jack groans, mumbling about his ‘embarrassing dads.’

Phil gathers them back together, arms coiled tightly around their shoulders. He tries to hold Dan, who is very large, and Jack, who is very small, at the same time, which makes him look like a distressed crab. Jack doubles over in giggles while Phil attempts to speak dramatically through his own laughter.

“Oh, my family, whomest I loveth so much.”

“I’ll leave you here,” Dan threatens, grinning. “We will get in the car and drive away and you’ll have to sleep in the changing rooms tonight.”

But he won’t and Phil knows that. Phil annoys the heck out of him sometimes; he’s probably driving him to an early grave. Jack, too, is full of energy and constantly keeps Dan on his toes. But as they walk together in the near-darkness, Dan is reminded of why he chose this life all those years ago, and why he will continue to choose it over and over again. This is his family, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
